He pulled up Saturday, sometime around 7:30 p.m., not knowing what to expect from his annual weekend in Homestead. For the last six years, John DeStafano has made the trip every year from Estero to South Florida to watch the races at Homestead-Miami Speedway. He comes with his son and they sit right along the finish line, the perfect vantage point to watch a trophy get handed out. This year, he was there alone and not even expecting to watch the race in person.
DeStefano found a little patch of grass on the side of the road at the corner of Southwest 336th Street and Southeast 38th Avenue, and parked his Infiniti QX56 full-size SUV. He opened the trunk to reveal a _ by his standards _ wimpy tailgate setup. He had a television, outfitted with Apple TV and connected to an amplifier, to watch the races. DeStefano hooked up an industrial fan to a generator to battle the 90-degree Florida heat. He unloaded a small tailgating grill to cook up some quick meals. An American flag, NASCAR flag and Homestead-Miami Speedway flag all flew high above one-man party. He set up a couple chairs and settled in to watch, on his TV, the NASCAR Gander RV & Outdoors Truck Series race happening maybe half a mile away, being run without any fans in attendance because of the COVID-19 pandemic.
"It's the spontaneity of the race. You never know what's going to happen, when it's going to happen, where it's going to happen," DeStefano said when asked why he made the two-hour drive even though he wouldn't be allowed into the speedway, "so I just put myself out there, see what happens. Sometimes something happens."
"I did get a ticket for today's race," DeStefano said Sunday as he set up his tailgate around 11 a.m.
DeStefano had purchased a ticket for the Dixie Vodka 400, originally scheduled for March before the coronavirus outbreak forced it to be postponed. He got his refund once NASCAR offered it, but he brought his ticket with him anyway, just in case somehow he would get to be one of those few fans to watch the race from bleachers.
On Tuesday, NASCAR announced it would let 1,000 fans _ all military personnel and their families _ watch the NASCAR Cup Series race in Homestead in person. DeStefano figured it meant there was a chance _ however slim _ he might be able to wriggle his way into the crowd.
As he watched the Truck Series race Friday, a pair of undercover police officers pulled up to his tailgate. "You've got tickets for the race?" one asked him.
"Well, I've got a ticket," DeStefano responded, "but I can't get in."
The officer reached up toward his sun visor and pulled out a ticket. On Sunday, it got DeStefano into the speedway to watch the Cup Series race. He sent his wife a photo of his prize and she wasn't surprised.
"I texted her the picture and she's like, Ah, that's funny. I told so-and-so I knew you'd get in!" DeStefano said. "Everybody else thought I was going to get a ticket except me."
Even if he didn't get in, he would have enjoyed his weekend. He fell in love with NASCAR in 2009 when a friend dragged him along to the Daytona 500 and he immediately became a tailgating fixture on the infield in Daytona Beach. He has rented out inflatable water slides and set up pinball machines. One year, Travel Channel recorded at his tailgate for the pilot episode of "Adam Richman's Fandemonium."
He kept his routine mostly intact this year, even without knowing he'd watch a race live. He stayed at Homestead's Vintage BNB, Inc. _ like he always does _ and spent the weekend scouring the town for signs of NASCAR luminaries.
"It's addictive. I just don't see that with stick and ball sports. The accessibility is very, very limited, so when you come to NASCAR you could meet anybody at any given moment."
